


never one for secrets.

by furies



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: 500 words, Gen, Pre-Series, secrets challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-02-06
Updated: 2003-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-15 11:04:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/160195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/furies/pseuds/furies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>she's gonna make it after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	never one for secrets.

It was strangely quiet in the house, as Emily pulled her pearl earrings out of the jewelry box. “Richard, darling, do remember to wear the cufflinks I put out for you.”

“My whole outfit has been laid out, thanks to Tina, including this dapper scarf that I really think completes the outfit.”

Emily stares at her reflection in the mirror as she fastens her earrings. “Dapper? This the DAR reception, you aren’t supposed to look dapper, you’re supposed to look refined. And most of all, you’re supposed to be on time. Hurry up now, we don’t want to be late. Last year the Benningtons were the last to arrive and no one has forgotten that.”

She rises from her chair and smoothes her skirt. She reaches for her matched purse and presses her lips together. Her reflection stares back, portrait perfect. “Really, Richard, we must be going.”

“Lorelai! Lorelai Gilmore!” Emily shouted as she made her way down the stairs. “Lorelai, we are leaving! Please acknowledge that! Where is that girl?” Looking for her wayward daughter was not scheduled for the night. Emily checked her purse, she felt strangely like something was missing. And Richard was moaning about a scarf and they were going to be late. Emily Gilmore was nothing if not punctual.

“This is not the scarf I asked for.”

“Well, it looks fine. Can you just wear it?”

Emily Gilmore was never one for secrets, and definitely didn’t enjoy it when things were out of place. So of course she noticed the envelope right away, and Lorelai’s loopy seventeen year old handwriting spelling out “Mom”.

“You know, Mom, there’s a point in every girl’s life when she has to prove that she can stand on her own two feet. It’s like in that Mary Tyler Moore show, when she sings, ‘I’m gonna make it after all!’ and she tosses her red beret into the clean Minneapolis air. That’s me, Mom. I’m even throwing my hat in the air because Rory is safely locked inside that strange contraption you call a stroller.

Rory and me, we make a good team. It’s just time. Don’t worry too much and I’ll call you eventually – I wouldn’t want you to spend your entire life wondering what your grandchild looked like, though I can assure you now she’ll be nothing but beautiful. Thank you for all the help you’ve already given us, the strollers, the expensive diaper bags, the elaborate christening, showing me how to burp her – invaluable advice. Maybe it would be different if I were going to Yale next year like planned, maybe then you two could still be proud of me.

Take care of yourself, Mom. Tell Dad I love him. I do love you, both of you. This is just my Mary Tyler moment. Every girl has to have one at some point. And I was never going to be the daughter you wanted.

Lorelai.”

Emily Gilmore, in her pearls and perfectly pressed knit suit, burst into tears.


End file.
